Archive of Our Own ^beta

You adjusted the small tower of books in your arms so you could step off the bus, but once on solid ground you leaned left and right, trying to see around the Leaning Tower of Pisa replica your books created, but nothing alluded to your location. According to the map of bus routes you studied last night, that bus should have dropped you off in front of the bookstore.

A rumble above reminded you rain was on the way, and if you didn’t want to present a stack of soggy books to be signed by your favorite author—indeed, if you wanted them signed at all—you had to find the bookstore, and fast. Noa Kiritani rarely did public book signings, and when he did they only lasted a couple of hours before he was done. You had been too late to every signing so far, arriving to find his red-faced editor offering terse apologies that he had to cut the event short…again and again.

You refused to miss him today, so you were hours early. However, it turned out you would need this time to find the bookstore because you took the wrong bus to the wrong part of town. But finally, you reached the store. You stood for a moment admiring their poster of Noa for the event before waddling through the automatic doors with your books. As if holding back on your account, the rain started to fall after you stepped inside. You sighed with relief and began to look around the store for Noa Kiritani.

He was standing up from a table in the back when you spotted him, a dozen or so admirers gathered around him. He wore a casual, dark gray kimono like the ones in his author photo at the back of his novels, a triangle of bare chest visible.

He was even more handsome in person, you thought wistfully. His dark hair was pushed back but long since started coming loose from its hold, so a few silken strands strayed into his face. His hands were spread wide in supplication, and he was speaking to the small crowd.

“My dear fans, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here today. Alas, I must regrettably cut our time together short.”

“What!” exclaimed a woman behind him, who you recognized as his publicist.

He continued as if he didn’t hear her. “I’m afraid there’s a family emergency I must attend to.”

The crowd began murmuring and there was a pang in your chest. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious standing there with your stack of books. How silly it seemed to want your collection signed in the face of something serious, even if you had spent the last few hours of your life scrambling to be there, and even if you’d asked off for work specifically for this…

Feeling like a fool, you glanced around the store for the nearest exit the moment Kiritani disappeared into the store’s backroom, his editor trailing after him with rapid-fire questions. You spotted a side door marked with an exit sign and made for it, balancing your burden expertly now, despite how tired your arms felt.

Thankfully, it was no longer raining. The brief thunderstorm lasted just long enough to saturate the ground and leave behind a few shallow puddles on the streets. The door let out into an alley opening on both ends to busy streets. You weren’t sure which way went to the bus stop you needed, so you randomly went left, resigned to backtrack if it was the wrong way; you’d been doing it all day, after all.

You sighed, thinking that this was the third time you’d missed out on a Noa Kiritani book signing. Maybe you just weren’t meant to have your collection fully completed. At least this time you got to see him and hear his voice. (You made a mental note to sign the petition “Petition to have Noa Kiritani narrate his books’ audio versions” the moment you were in reach of your computer.)

As you turned the corner you were taken off guard by a shout of, “Mitchan, watch out!” and then someone collided with you. Or, more accurately, collided with your tower of novels.

You, the so-called Mitchan, and half a dozen Noa Kiritani books tumbled to the sodden sidewalk. You yelped with pain and surprise on impact, taking the brunt of the fall on your knees. You remained still for a moment, waiting for the sting to subside.

“Look what you’ve done, Mitchan! Tsk, I tried to warn you,” exclaimed a familiar voice. “Miss? Are you all right? I’m so sorry, my editor simply does not look out for others—”

“—What?!—”

“—nor cares for anything but deadlines!” he finished dramatically.

While he spoke, you had turned to see first who you ran into and then who was talking. If you were surprised to see Kiritani’s editor on the sidewalk with you, it paled in comparison to what you felt when you looked up to see the Noa Kiritani addressing you.

“K-Kiritani-sama!” you exclaimed, immediately bowing low, and then bowing to the editor. “Please forgive me.”

“No, no, it was me!” Mitchan—Mitsuru—replied. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“A common problem for you,” Kiritani said with a frown, which deepened when he noticed the toppled books. They had, with great misfortune, fallen into one of the few puddles standing on the sidewalk, and were now steadily soaking up the puddle’s contents. “Oh dear, your books…” He stooped to pick one up and paused. “My books,” he corrected, seeing the cover. He looked at your face, searching for recognition. “Were you at the signing today?”

“Yes—No—Yes…I mean, I arrived late. You needed to leave—Oh!” The memory struck you like a brick. “Your family emergency! Please don’t let me keep you.”

A sly smile split his face as a dark cloud settled on Mitsuru. “Oh, that? No worries. I only wanted to leave early.”

You were shocked, but evidently not as much as Mitsuru.

“You WHAT—!” she began, but he interrupted her as though she weren’t there.

“I’m afraid your books are ruined,” he said to you. “I can replace them for you, signed and everything, if you’ll do one thing for me.”

Your heart thumped so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat, threatening to gag you. “What’s that?” you barely managed to ask.

“Have tea with me at my place? I only suggest there because I have copies of my books. But if you’re not comfortable with that I know a great little teahouse just a couple of blocks over…”

Nothing felt real suddenly, like Alice dropped into Wonderland. Unnecessarily you realized you still sat on your knees on the sidewalk, the rough grain of the concrete digging into your flesh. When you spoke, you heard yourself as if underwater and far away. Your heart pulsed in your throat.

“S-sure, your place would be fine.” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. What were you saying?! It was beyond inappropriate for a young woman to accept this proposal, but you had to admit you couldn’t pass up this once-in-a-lifetime chance to spend time with your favorite writer. Plus, you did need new copies and wanted them signed badly…

“By the way, call me Shigure.” He winked and smiled. “No need to be so formal, hm? Oh!” He turned to his editor, who was still sitting in disbelief on the sidewalk. “Mitchan, clean up back there for me? Seems I have an obligation—and pleasure,” he added with another wink in your direction, “to attend to with this young lady. Thank you, Mitchan, you’re the best!”

Before the poor woman could reply, Shigure took you by the arm and steered you promptly away, down the street and around the corner.

It was a long walk, and for the first part you were quiet, needing the time to catch up with yourself. In the span of about five minutes you not only met and were invited home with none other than Noa Kiritani, you were also allowed to use his real name, on a first name basis. Your heart was thumping madly in your chest, so strongly you thought it would crack your sternum. Once composed you realized what an opportunity this was, and decided to seize it. Spine straightening and your steps more confident, you turned to see Shigure watching you.

“Finally processed it all?” he asked amicably.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you hoped they weren’t as red as they felt. “Y-yes, I suppose so.”

He nodded, still smiling. He had an easy, lazy sort of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was gracious and friendly all the same.

“I don’t believe I got your name…?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You bowed low as you walked, and when you straightened again you told him your name. “My friends call me Puppy, though. You can, too.”

He looked amused. “Puppy, hm? Let me guess…The big shining eyes?”

You flushed fiercely again, this time knowing it was noticeable. “Y-yes, that’s one reason. Apparently, I’ve never met a stranger.” You smiled self-consciously.

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” he remarked, his eyes looking far away. “I know someone else like that, and they’re a wonderful person.”

You felt flattered but wondered if he had even been complimenting you, or them. Still, the comparison wasn’t a bad one, so you took it well.

“Ah, here we are! I hope you don’t mind climbing a few steps.” Shigure stopped at the foot of a tall, stone staircase that led up to a quaint traditional house. Glancing around, you noticed that you had left the city proper some time ago. There were a lot more trees and the sounds of the city were further away. You were embarrassed to realize how oblivious you had been while walking with virtually a stranger, but you pushed the small fear away and walked up the stairs to the house.

You felt more nervous being at the actual place now. Your heartrate increased and your palms grew clammy, but you tried to ignore it.

Remember, seize the opportunity! You reminded yourself, and firmed your spine.

To your immense relief, when the two of you entered the house a female voice called out a cheerful greeting. “Welcome home!” Steps came from the adjacent room and a young woman, about high school age you guessed, stepped out into the hall. Her bright smile faltered only a moment when she saw you in the doorway. “Oh, hello! I didn’t know we were going to have guests or I would have prepared some snacks! I’m Tohru Honda!” She bowed low, her brown hair falling forward to almost touch the floor.

“Tohru!” Shigure practically sang. “This is Puppy,” he introduced you, “a huge fan of my books!”

Tohru Honda’s face lit up even further. “A fan? That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together in front of you, exuding joy. It’s so good to meet a fan of Shigure’s! Would like some tea? I’ll put some tea on!” She hurried back to the room she had come from originally before you could answer.

“Puppy, this way.”

You looked down the hall to see Shigure beckoning you to a different room at the end. You removed your shoes and walked to the room as he disappeared into it. When you rounded the threshold you knew instantly that it was his office. A thrill shot through you—this was where he did his writing!

While you paced slack jawed around the small office, Shigure plucked books from the wall of bookshelves near his desk. He set the stack on it and sat in his chair, grabbing up his pen where it laid on a stack of typed papers.

“Now,” he began, getting your attention. “Should I make these out to Puppy or—?”

“Puppy is fine,” you interjected, kneeling next to his chair. “No one knows me by my actual name anyway.”

Shigure opened the first book to the flyleaf. “What made you a fan of mine?” he asked. A young woman such as yourself? He was guessing you got started on one of his new romance serials.

“Well…my creative writing professor my sophomore year of college had us read your academic papers, and when she told us you also wrote—um—love stories under a penname, my curiosity got the best of me.” You felt sheepish telling the story, but Shigure’s smile was bright and welcoming.

“You have to be the first of my fans who’s also read my academic work,” he said with no small amount of admiration in his tone. “I’m impressed.”

You blushed mildly and Shigure laughed, warm and kindred. He reached out and gently ran a finger along your jawline, pausing momentarily to hold up the tip of your chin. Lightning shot down your spine at his touch. “Blushing is very becoming of you, Puppy,” he said softly, forcing you to lean closer to hear him. His statement only made you blush more, and you were quiet, at a loss for what to say.

With another soft laugh, Shigure leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss against your forehead. It was a quick peck, but it felt like fire erupted where his lips touched your skin. Before you were over your shock he had pulled away and was poised over the book with pen in hand.

To my dearest friend Puppy. She’s rather adorable when she’s flushed.

You were certain your face would simply combust if things continued this way, but to your relief Tohru appeared at the doorway with a tray of tea and a smile.

“Knock knock!” she said cheerfully before stepping inside and setting the tray down on the edge of the desk. As she was straightening up, though, she noticed your face and gave a start. “Oh no, Puppy, are you okay? You’re terribly red!”

Renewed heat emanated from your face, neck, and ears like a woodstove in winter. Shigure laughed uproariously, opening the next book and writing, To my dearest Puppy, whose blushes could light the night and most definitely light up my heart.

“I’m all right, thank you for asking,” you answered with a quick bow. “I just need a little tea. Is there any honey, by chance?”

“Yes! Let me fetch it.” She hopped up and left the room.

“Forgive me for teasing you, Puppy,” Shigure said earnestly, a soft smile touching his lips now. “You are such a good sport, though.”

You laughed, flattered again. “Thank you for that. And thank you so much for the books.” You bowed.

You enjoyed a couple cups of tea with Shigure and Tohru after he signed the books. He put them into a bag for you to carry easily, and when you left he put you on the correct bus with a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“Farewell, Puppy. Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, unsuccessfully fighting a huge grin.

Later as you flipped through the inscriptions, you came across a little piece of paper folded into the spine of one of the books. It contained a small drawing of a smiling and blushing dog, his phone number, and a short note that read: