Chapter Text
In a quaint café nestled in the heart of Yokohama, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, swirling through the narrow spaces between tables. The soft clinking of ceramic mugs, the quiet hum of jazz playing in the background, and the slow trickle of regulars filing in and out set the rhythm of the day. Atsushi Nakajima, a barista with tousled silver hair and bright, nervous eyes, moved like clockwork behind the counter. He had memorized each patron’s preference, their habits, their moods—and none more so than the man who sat in the farthest corner by the window, day after day, cigarette smoke curling through the beams of morning light.
Akutagawa Ryunosuke. A solitary man with sharp features and dark, intense eyes that seemed to bore into Atsushi's very soul whenever their gazes met. His presence was unmistakable—a figure draped in all black, from his long, fitted coat to the slim-cut trousers that brushed against his polished boots. His sharp cheekbones were often half-hidden behind the cigarette that hung loosely from his pale lips.
Atsushi always found himself drawn to Akutagawa, though the two had never exchanged more than the obligatory “Your order’s ready.” Something about him felt both ominous and magnetic, as though fate had sewn an invisible thread between them.
Despite Akutagawa’s cold demeanor, he returned to the café every single day—at exactly 9:03 AM. He ordered the same thing: a black coffee, no sugar, no milk, and a croissant that he rarely touched. It was as if he was there for something else—someone else. Atsushi couldn’t help but wonder.
.
.
.
In another time, in another life, they would have met again. They just didn’t know it yet.
This time, there was no small café, no soft jazz, no lazy morning light filtering through windows. Instead, there was the cold, fluorescent glare of a corporate office, the suffocating hum of air conditioning, and the low murmur of employees gossiping over their desks.
Atsushi Nakajima had always felt like he didn’t quite belong in the corporate world. He had just landed a job as an assistant at the prestigious Port Mafia Enterprises, a multinational conglomerate with a reputation as ruthless as its CEO. Atsushi didn’t care much for office politics—he was just thankful to have a job after a long stretch of unemployment. With his silver hair tied neatly back, he stood out in a sea of drab gray suits, a small fish floundering in a vast corporate ocean.
As he hurried through the polished halls on his first day, papers nearly spilling out of his arms, Atsushi’s anxiety mounted. He had been warned countless times by his coworkers: "Stay out of the CEO’s way. He’s cold, unforgiving. You make one mistake, and you’re gone.”
Akutagawa Ryuunosuke. CEO of Port Mafia Enterprises.
A name that sent shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned employees.
Atsushi, however, had never seen him. Not until today.
As he rounded a corner too quickly, his body collided with something—or someone—solid. The papers in his hands went flying in every direction. Atsushi’s heart froze as his eyes slowly drifted upward, locking with a pair of deep, piercing black eyes. The air seemed to freeze around them.
It was him.
A tall man, dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his silver cufflinks gleaming in the harsh light. The resemblance to the café’s mysterious regular was uncanny. He even had the same cold, predatory gaze. Atsushi’s mouth went dry as he stammered an apology, quickly gathering his papers.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Akutagawa’s voice was low, almost a growl, the kind of tone that sent fear rippling through anyone in its wake. His gaze never left Atsushi, but something flickered in his eyes, something familiar, as if the silver-haired boy standing before him stirred an echo of a forgotten memory.
“I—I’m sorry, sir,” Atsushi managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Watch where you’re going next time,” Akutagawa snapped, his words cutting like a blade. “You’re lucky I don’t fire you on the spot.”
Atsushi bowed deeply, muttering apologies as he scrambled away. His heart pounded in his chest, his palms sweaty with nerves. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this man—the cold, distant CEO—was more than just a stranger.
But why?
Weeks passed. Atsushi had managed to keep his job, though not without several close calls. Akutagawa’s presence haunted him, a constant, looming figure that seemed to be everywhere at once. They clashed frequently, with Akutagawa often berating Atsushi for minor mistakes. The silver-haired boy’s clumsiness and nervousness seemed to infuriate the CEO to no end.
“Do you ever stop screwing things up, Nakajima?” Akutagawa snapped one afternoon as Atsushi fumbled through a presentation. His voice was biting, his eyes sharp.
Atsushi bit his lip, trying to steady his trembling hands. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll fix it—”
“You say that every time,” Akutagawa interrupted, his tone icy. “But you never do.”
It was exhausting. Atsushi felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells around the man. He had even started looking for new jobs, convinced that it was only a matter of time before he got fired.
Yet despite the tension, there were moments—fleeting, subtle—when something shifted in Akutagawa’s gaze. Moments where his harsh exterior seemed to soften, if only for a second. Atsushi noticed it in the way Akutagawa would pause before speaking, or the rare times he would walk past without a snide remark.
It didn’t make sense. But then again, nothing about Akutagawa did.
It was during one of the quiet evenings, long after most of the employees had gone home, that things began to change. Atsushi had stayed late to finish up some reports, the office bathed in the dim glow of his computer screen. He didn’t notice Akutagawa watching him from the shadows until he spoke.
“You’re still here.”
Atsushi jumped, spinning around in his chair. His eyes widened in surprise. “Mr. Akutagawa—”
“You work late,” Akutagawa observed, his voice softer than usual. He stepped closer, his dark eyes fixed on Atsushi’s. “Why?”
Atsushi hesitated, unsure how to respond. “I—I just have a lot to catch up on. I don’t want to make more mistakes.”
Akutagawa was silent for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, almost...curious. “And you think working yourself to exhaustion will prevent that?”
Atsushi blinked, taken aback. This was the first time Akutagawa had shown anything resembling concern. “I guess... I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
“You’re not the only one who’s been here late every night,” Akutagawa said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “There’s a reason I haven’t fired you yet, Nakajima.”
Atsushi’s heart skipped a beat. “What reason is that?”
Akutagawa didn’t answer right away. He turned his gaze toward the window, his expression distant. “You remind me of someone.”
Atsushi’s breath caught in his throat. Something about the way Akutagawa said those words sent a chill down his spine. Who did he remind him of? Why did it feel like they had met before—like they were connected by something much deeper than just this lifetime?
One night, Akutagawa’s memories came flooding back in a rush, vivid and overwhelming. It was as if someone had opened a door in his mind, letting in the past life he had forgotten. He remembered the café. The coffee. The cigarettes. And most of all, he remembered Atsushi.
In that past life, they had been different people. Atsushi had been a barista, and Akutagawa had been just another customer. But something deeper had connected them. Akutagawa recalled the way they had grown close, the way Atsushi’s gentle smile had softened the edges of his hardened heart.
And he remembered the sickness. The pain. The way his body had betrayed him as the cancer ate away at his lungs. Atsushi had stayed by his side through it all without knowing because each day I came to bug him. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. I had died, and Atsushi was left in confusion. We were just in love when it all ended..
Now, in this new life, they had found each other again. Akutagawa knew it. But did Atsushi?
The next day, Akutagawa called Atsushi into his office. The silver-haired boy looked nervous as he stood in front of the CEO’s desk, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
Akutagawa leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Atsushi. “Do you believe in reincarnation, Nakajima?”
Atsushi blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I... I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”
Akutagawa’s gaze softened. “I remember you.”
Atsushi’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
“I remember everything,” Akutagawa said quietly. “The café. The coffee. Our insults. My confession. The way you stayed by my side until the very end unknowingly.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened as the memories began to stir in his own mind. Flashes of a different life—a life where he had been a barista, and Akutagawa had been his most 'loyal' customer. The man he had fallen in love with. The man who had died while I waited for him to come back.
Tears welled in Atsushi’s eyes as the realization hit him. “It’s you...”
Akutagawa stood up, walking around the desk until he was standing in front of Atsushi. He reached out, gently brushing a tear from Atsushi’s cheek. “It’s me.”
In that moment, everything fell into place. The arguments, the tension, the inexplicable connection they had felt from the very beginning—it all made sense now. They had found each other again, across lifetimes, across worlds.
“I missed you,” Atsushi whispered, his voice trembling.
Akutagawa’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile. “I missed you too.”
.
.
.
In the months that followed, Atsushi and Akutagawa grew closer, their bond deepening as they rekindled the love they had once shared. The office, once a place of tension and conflict, became a space filled with laughter and warmth. Akutagawa, who had always been so cold and distant, began to soften under Atsushi’s influence.
Their love, once lost to time and death, had been reborn.
And this time, they wouldn’t waste a single moment.
𝕆𝕟𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕