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Your first impression of him was definitely nowhere near nice. It was not even the least bit pleasant.
The story started at the yakiniku restaurant you and your best friends were frequent customers in. It was one weekend evening and the three of you were about to dive into the meat you had prepared each to your own tastes. Your chopsticks hovering over a particular slice you've been eyeing since minutes before, their movements halted when a sound broke and drilled its way into your concentration.
You did not even have to turn your head to its source to assess that it was a particularly disgusting sound. Turned out, it was actually a belch. A very very loud one. One that was probably not less than 3 seconds long and with a lengthy drawl near the end. And judging by the atrocious volume and "roundness" of the sound, the one making it must had made zero attempt to hide it. They might even did it out loud intentionally.
Now, you pretty much understood that occasional burps and belches during eating is a completely normal human body response. But you were also the kind of person that adequately mind how you present yourself within common public situations and would try to adequately maintain the comfort of others. Especially in this current full house restaurant, with every big table crowded with people barely distanced between one another.
That was why when you did turn your head anyway to the table next to you to find four boys glaring at their one friend—the largest of the pack—you did not even hide the irritated look on your face. Apparently you were not the only one displaying similar confound along with slight revulsion to their table, but also the rest of the diners, probably everyone in the room, waiters included.
Among the five boys, two were seemingly the most distressed upon gaining their much deserved attention. One had blonde hair as bright as the lamp hanging above them, slapping the big arm of the culprit in scrutiny, which you saw made no significant effect other than a grin forming on the latter's face. The other one, which you later noticed had one of the blackest hair and the longest pair of lashes you had ever seen on a man, were quick to throw several reprimanding sentences to scold his huge friend before turning to your table.
"So sorry, ladies. Deeply sorry," he said with raised brows and both palms pressed to each other in front of his chest. "Please forgive this ogre of a guy. He's still learning how to mingle and behave among human," he joked but it sounded more like he was very much aware that no amount of excuse can appease the discomfort you guys must've felt by coincidentally being seated right next to them.
"Ah, it's fine," one of your friends seated nearest to the pretty guy said back, to which you turned your glare towards. "Your friend must have a huge appetite," she added. You almost slapped yourself seeing sparks starting to form in her eyes. Don't tell me she's getting smitten in a moment like this, you grumbled inwardly.
"Certainly he does." The long lashes guy smiled back at her.
"Huge appetite or not, I don't think that was appropriate at all," you butted, stealing the black haired guy's attention to you, which caused your friend to glare back at you instead. "What? However big his appetite's not an excuse to make other people lose theirs."
A sound laugh followed, which you saw belonged to the one with a red hair in the group. "You heard that. Now you gotta apologize to the lady, Nebuya-san. Go."
As this 'Nebuya' guy now turning his head fully to you, you finally took note how he was not only the biggest and tallest in the group, but also the most bulky. His darker skin tone as well as his shaved head only helped making him stick out from the rest, successfully earning him your full attention. He was still holding a bowl and chopsticks all this time, and only put them down to gesture an apology to you with his hands.
"Sorry..." he said sheephishly before patting his tummy, "Meat makes me excited."
"Excited to inhale even more?" The boy from the farthest seat chimed nonchalantly, the one with the grey hair. Judging from his expression, this was not unusual occurrence.
"Oi! Just help me out here!" Nebuya snapped back at his friend, eyeing your still unhappy face on him.
The one with the blond hair laughed out loud. "Hahaha! Ei-chan's finally cornered!"
"Tch! Alright. I'm terribly sorry." Nebuya rubbed the back of his neck nervously and kind of gave you a mini bow with his head which looked more like a nod. "I'll try not to do it again."
"No, no. That's not the way to apologize to ladies." The one with the long lashes looked at him disapprovingly. He then stood up, bringing with him three plump tangerines that was the bonus serving of the day and handed them to your friend, whose sparkles in her eyes now reach their full brightness. "We're truly sorry. Please take these with you. They said tangerines can help improve your mood and also your skin health. And this place's tangerines are one of the freshest and sweetest around. If you ladies haven't known already."
Of course your friend squealed and went on muttering a series of 'are you sure' and 'oh it's fine' upon the wink she was given along with the fruits. Seeing the whole turn of the scene, you rolled your eyes and threw a look at the dark muscular guy which was the catalyst of this whole scene. He was still fidgety but completely gave his friend the reign to handle the diplomatic consequences. While you were still irked by how he was seemingly not learned his lesson, you just shrugged your shoulders, choosing not to further complicate the situation.
The three of you said a little thank you to the guy that briefly introduced himself—after your friend asked him of course—as Mibuchi, and all of you went back to enjoying the dinner. Thankfully, other than the occasional bickering among the five guys, the rest of your meal was not bothered by any other icky disturbance like before. Though you also noticed how the guys' table somehow kept ordering plates after plates of new servings, mostly meat, and how this 'Nebuya' guy simply engorged more than half of them by himself. Witnessing that, you secretly commended how he managed to not belch anymore with all those drinks he had accompanying his voracity, and how many digits would there be printed on their bill receipt.
You thought that would be your last interaction with him. But no. Not more than 40 minutes later, you excused yourself to the restroom and were in the middle of rolling your sleeves to wash your hands, when the handle of the door to the hallway suddenly got yanked roughly, followed by a quick swing open of the wooden door. Within a glimpse, you caught sight of the figure about to enter the room through the reflection on the mirror in front of you, and were dumbfounded to find that it was none other than the bulky guy from earlier. His eyes widened upon catching your narrowed eyes.
"You..." Irritation was the only tone apparent in your voice.
"Ah crap! Sorry, sorry! I thought it was the men's!" He frantically apologized with a bow before vanishing just as quickly, but not without slamming the door a bit too hard for your ears and for the decorative potted plants to rattle. Then a second later, you heard the opening and the bang of a door nearby, probably the men's restroom which was on the opposite side of the hallway.
You snorted unbelieving. Seriously? Was that guy a pervert or what? But judging from the way he reacted, it seemed like that was indeed purely an accident. But if so, then can he not read? Or did he somehow miss the big sign with the equally big 'dress' symbol plastered upon the door?
He was lucky that there was currently no other girl here except you. And you were lucky that you were not in the middle of doing anything "dangerous" like tidying up your skirt or fixing the position of your bra because well... it's the restroom.
Shaking your head, you proceeded to clean up your hand. All the while thinking that this was the first time you had interaction with such a man, one packed with muscle but possesses zero class. Not that you ever thought that importantly about classes, since you were also nowhere half near a sophisticated lady. But there was definitely a line that marked the kind of people you could tolerate with by way they display mannerisms. And that guy was undoubtedly one of the very few who crossed it.
You were just glad that he was not a friend, an associate, or even acquaintance of yours. That you simply won't have to encounter him ever again after leaving this restaurant.
But oh boy, how wrong you were...
It was about two or three weeks later. Your mood was already sour as an unripe lemon as you walked into the city park you often stop over. Yet it went even more sour upon you finding the place to be pretty crowded with people. Well, it was public space after all. However you really did not expect that this many people would happen to choose this particular day as their perfect time for picnic. You did not blame them though. This day was sunny as hell, but it was a comfortable hell. And the trees were in the week of giving their most comfortable shade throughout the year as well.
With the heavy burden currently weighing down your heart, you found no actual energy to move to some other alternative place. Therefore you still opted to drag your feet deeper into the park, passing several groups of families around their spread picnic mats, their laughing and smiling faces contrasting your gloomy one. However, even after rounding almost the whole park, and nearly got bumped twice by running children, there was not a spot spacious and desolate enough for your comfort, to seclude and drown yourself in your current reeling sadness, which was actually your plan coming to this place all along.
Sighing, you looked around for the next best thing, which you decided to be the malfunctioning fountain near the back of the park. Around a month ago it was still pumping water through its jets before you found them not working and got its water removed a few days later. Since there was a newer and bigger one in the middle of the park, people naturally gathered over there instead. This one seemed to be rather forgotten now that you see it still had not gotten fixed yet.
What a perfect spot to mope around, you thought as you made your way there. As long as you turn your back to most of the people flocking the middle of the park, you were sure nobody could see your face. Thus you sat down on the fountain's marble edge, crossed your legs, took out your phone, put on your headset, and replayed the doom of your last 24 hours which was the recording of your monologue stage.
Said stage was last evening. Your theatre club had long awaited last night, for it was an event very special for the club's freshmen, you included. The club had invited stage practitioners and directors to watch a few select freshmen's monologue, yours included. They would then comment on each performance to give feedbacks and criticisms, yours no exception. It was overall a nifty opportunity for amateurs to garner suggestions and sharings of expertise from those more experienced, and if lucky, to network around.
Of course it had been an honor for you to be one of the club's chosen performers. And to add, your script was your own writing. Which means last night's stage was near one-hundred percent a production of your own, your first one at that. You had of course expected to receive a number of jabbing criticism and very minimal compliment, if at all. However there was this one particular director, one of the most looked up to boot, who seemed to not approve of anything you had presented. And that kind of broke your line of notion on how much you can handle.
He had first told you that your stage was akin of a kindergartener's. That the intended simplicity of its props was actually a sign of the writer's mess of an imagination. Then he said it was his own fault that he had expected a lot more than he had ended up watching, judging by what the script had desperately tried to sell. And as the final blow to the nail, he also reckoned that there was zero seriousness in the whole preparation, that he might thought you had only cared to come that night to barely put things on stage and quickly perform just to later fetch your dinner as soon as possible.
Of course, you also knew that the rule 'to each their own taste' applies to everyone, stage directors not excepted. But you truly was not ready for the punches of this one director's judgement to the stage that you actually had spent weeks preparing, even weeks further writing.
Through the whole evaluation session, which was also recorded in the video you were currently replaying, you had evidently stiffen your face in order to keep your polite smile on and brimming tears not spilling from your eyes. The way your figure as captured in the phone kept nodding and occasionally grasping your own hand with the other reminded you to how you were at that time kept reassuring yourself, that everything the director said was harmless constructive criticism. But given the way he later gave the other performers his feedbacks, both through his words and mannerisms, you wildly concluded that indeed he must have had something major against your performance. Perhaps it was the premise of the story, perhaps it was your whole interpretation, but also maybe it was just you being extremely disappointing either as a writer or a performer. That you were simply not as good as you thought you were.
You let out an extensive sigh following your own trail of thoughts, lips unconsciously forming a pout. To your own lack of knowledge, your eyes had now begun to glisten, as you welcome again the upsetting feeling stirring in your heart and mind. As much as you hate feeling down, you also understand that you should relish in this consuming sadness in order to pick yourself up later. Certainly you were allowed to be miserable, right? When something, some creation, that you had put much effort into and had excitedly presented were to be crushed with harsh commentary and—at least to you—unfair appraisement.
Finally sensing the existence of water framing your vision, you were about to wipe them when all of a sudden, a round and extremely orange object entered your view, rolling on the grassy ground below to stop right before you. A... basketball? Then right after, a not so unfamiliar shade of bright blonde joined in, its owner reaching down to pick the ball up. When he raised his head to meet your face, there was moment when he blinked a few times before his face lit up with a grin.
"Oh?!" he exclaimed in recognition, face mirroring your similar expression of realization. His voice was loud enough to cut through the audio steadily blaring into your ears, but you took off one of your headset bud nonetheless, only to hear his next phrase, "If it isn't Ei-chan's long lost catch!"
You still had a frown on your face when you followed the direction the blonde spun his head towards. And your split-second guess was spot on. It was the same group of guys you had encountered some times ago in the yakiniku restaurant. Only this time, one of them seemed to be missing, leaving only three sitting in circle on a picnic mat about 25 feet to your right. Among them of course was the big dark guy—this supposed 'Ei-chan' if you hadn't remembered wrong—stopping his munching on a sandwich to widen his eyes upon seeing you.
You cleared your throat once before asking the blonde young man near you, "'Long lost catch'?"
To which the energetic boy grinned even wider and yelled even louder to his friend, "Ei-chan! She wants to know why she's your long lost catch!" only to giddily laughed out loud after.
You witnessed how this particular sentence effectively garnered the attention of some people around you as well as around his group of friends, and you uncrossed your legs with this sudden turn of event. But even more flustered than you was the 'Ei-chan' guy, who went grumbling incoherent sentences, shoved his half finished sandwich into a bento box, threw his hands up, and generally went all crabby by the way he stood up and strode to his blonde friend and you.
"Kotarou, you brat!" You heard his voice boomed upon the lessening distance, a deep and rather loud tone you would expect from a person as big as he was. Only after he was close enough that you noticed a hint of pink dusting both his cheeks. "Shut up and come back here!"
"Make me!" The shorter one laughed so hard his eyes crinkled, before fleeing his position to avoid his friend's furious reaching arms, and suddenly it was the re-enactment of 'Tom and Jerry'. Then somehow the both of them managed to circle the very fountain you were currently sitting on about three or four times, with you picking up the pursuer's occasional growls and the mockings made by the one being chased. One of them being, "Just give up and talk to her already, Ei-chan~!"
Meanwhile, a sudden raise of a girl's voice in one of your ears, which you recognized to be your own, reminded you that your phone was still playing the recording of your stage in your hand. Now that the objective to review the performance had totally escaped your interest, you took off the other side of your headset and closed the video altogether. You carefully placed your gadgets in your bag, right as the blonde guy fled once and for all in the direction of the rest of his friends while shouting, "You go, girl!" to the friend he betrayed.
Eyeing the betrayed guy, you found 'Ei-chan' slumping in defeat as he slowed down to a stop with his back towards you. The slight ups and downs of his shoulders indicated that he was trying to catch his breath, clearly losing the previous agility battle, but not at all exhausted to the point of panting. Putting together the hints of the situation, you were in the middle of guessing the intention of him stopping his chase, when you saw him turn his body fully towards you. Though you caught sight of his lips being pressed tight almost to a pucker, it was still hard to see his whole face because he kept them turned to the side.
"Woo hoo! Go, Ei-chan!" another shout was heard, prompting him to rest both hands on his hips and eyes clenched shut in submission.
"Aah~ mou..." You heard him say after a few seconds, probably to himself. But given the not so far of a distance, and how you currently had your full attention on him, you did not fail to pick it up.
Then right the next second, he opened his eyes and the sight made you slightly gasped inwardly. They were deep blue, his twin orbs. Shaped pretty narrow for the size of his face, but already on aim, his eyes were point blank in meeting your observing ones. They closed for a moment one more time as he sighed and dropped his hands to his sides, before making his way towards you, slowly but not so surely.
When he had arrived right in front of you, he averted his gaze to the side once again before staring back at you. You felt like he actually made sure to stop not too close to you so you didn't have to crane your head too much just to meet his gaze. But you still did considerably. Though you already guessed that he must have been much taller than you given his towering stature around his friends, he still turned out a lot taller than you expected now that he was standing much nearer to you. The rolled up sleeves bunched just slightly under the curvature of his shoulders also didn't help alleviating his mountainous torso.
"Hey," he started sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Hi..." you replied, still being a bit careful.
"I'm uh... sorry, for earlier. For my friend's behalf," he said. You were about to respond when he added, "And also for my own. That time, you know, at the restaurant."
"Oh." Your mind went back again to the scenes around the table when he belched out loud as well as his accidental entrance into the women's restroom. You did not know which one he meant, or whether he meant both. But before you got reminded by the extent of annoyance you felt towards him that night, you had already said nonetheless, "It's okay."
His lips relaxed into a small smile. "Really? I thought you were totally appalled."
"I was, actually. Kind of," you admitted with a shrug. You were aware how normally you would need to be a bit more courteous with your words, especially to someone you just met. But something about him gave you the hunch that it's safe to just simply be honest, even right from the start.
To your surprise, not only his expression became warmer, he also broke into a low chortle at your words. "Figured just as much. You always wear this frown on your face after all." He made his point clear by purposefully drawing his brows together and placing his finger in between them to loosen them back.
"I do?" You unconsciously mimic his movements with your hand, only to heed the still existing creases between your own eyebrows. You let your skin relax into smoothness under your fingers and the action somehow provoked the man before you to let out another chuckle.
"Yeah. Like just now," he said.
"Huh?"
"Just now. Were you crying?"
"...Were you looking?"
"Yea... kind of..." Again, he averted his gaze to the top of the fountain behind you, and proceeded to talk to the fountain, "I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I was just curious since you look familiar. And before I knew it, I was already watching you." He stole a glance at you then quickly back to the fountain. "But I swear I did not throw that ball over here. That rascal Kotarou was playing carelessly and he just so happened to approach and see you too. And now..." He slapped his face lightly, more of frustration.
Before you could hold yourself back, you had let out a hearty giggle, and the sound made 'Ei-chan' shift his viewpoint back to you, just in time to follow the way your hand went up to cover half of your face. Your shoulders shook as sign of amusement, all while keeping your eyes—now crinkled at the corners—fixed on his face. It had him stunned awestruck, but at the same gave him this budding confidence that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance of you not thinking of him as that much of an eyesore, like the speculation he'd surmised, that restrained him to come up to you just a few minutes prior.
"Alright then," you started, now with a full smile on your face, "If anything, it only lifts up my mood. So... thank you?" To which he bowed a little to you, prompting another snicker from you for it was the exact same gesture he gave you in the mirror of the women's restroom back then.
"So..." he dared to ask, "There really was something upsetting you?"
"Yeah," you said, deciding to let this stranger in a bit to a piece of your life. "I just received some harsh criticism last night, for my stage. It was a monologue I had prepared for a long time."
"You play theatre?" He inquired and you nodded. "That's cool!"
You shook your head at his compliment and he did not miss how your eyes went a shade dimmer at the matter. "Not really. Since this famous director we invited apparently hates everything I presented." You sighed a little. "It was a play I wrote too, so it's a bit heartbreaking."
"Ah, I see," he said, tone not as animate as before upon hearing your story. He tilted his head to a spot next to you. "May I?"
"Sure," you agreed and, more out of emphasis to your consent, shifted slightly to the left to grant him a seat to your right. Nice choice of position, you thought, because right after, you heard hoots and whistles coming from the direction of his friends. This bulky 'Ei-chan' had settled down and angled his body a few degrees to you, in a way to have his friends completely blocked out of your vision and most likely vice versa. Apparently he had chosen to disregard his comrades altogether and you decided to do just the same.
"Right, I don't even know your name," you reminded, actually more to yourself.
"It's Eikichi. Nebuya Eikichi," he answered. Now that you've heard him saying his full name, it did dawn on you that you had also heard his last name before, said by one of his friends, back then in the restaurant. "You?" he asked back.
"___ ___ ," you told him, which he returned with a smile. "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
You both did your best to bow at each other. You failed to do it moderately since he was much taller than you so you ended up only moving your shoulders a bit forward, while he accomplished it by somehow curling his body diagonally due to his current sitting position. Neither seemed to care to do it properly and the awkward exchange only managed to issue more snickers and snorts from the both of you.
"Nebuya-san it is then," you noted.
"Eikichi is fine."
"Eikichi-san, then."
"Whatever you like, princess," he said, shrugging and throwing a little teasing smile at you. The term caught you off guard by a milisecond. But you recovered quick, since you had pretty much already allowed yourself to hop onto this boat he obviously was trying to dock, a novel one to you, but also a seemingly fun one. The next step would be to hold on to the board as you may or may not let him sail it away. Not anytime soon, but who knows?
"How do you know?" you narrowed your eyes at him accusingly.
"Know what?"
"My role. I was playing as a princess."
"How d— What!" Nebuya yelped, crossing his hands in front of him a few times, "For real?!"
"For real.”
"What? No! No, I don't know! I'm sorry, but I really don't!"
You burst into gleeful fits at his flustered face. When Nebuya had realized that you were just being frisky, his panic withered as you heard again his characteristic sonorous laughter following. He was glad you didn't take offense. But more than that, he was delighted upon discovering that you were in actuality really far from this rigid first impression he had of you.
"Are you still feeling down?" he asked, after all the sniggers had died down.
"Well... A bit."
"Um... I know it's not my place to say this," he fidgeted as he told you, "But I'm sure whatever it is you're doing, it's all fine, and it's good. I think I also know how it feels when you've given your best and it's still not enough by the end of the day. I... kinda had my own experience with that, with basketball."
"Oh?"
"But as long as we learn and try again, whatever will happen in the future, we will only get better. You too, will also get better. A person like you."
"What?" A corner of your mouth tugged upwards. "What kind of person I am?"
"You... Somehow you look like someone who has strong determination, that won't do anything recklessly and will always do their best in everything."
You snorted, a tad bit ungracefully you noted. "What the hell was that? What do you know about me?"
"Not much." Nebuya shrugged and tilted his head to the side. "Though I'd love to know more. Y'know, maybe over some yakiniku... if you're down? I’ll try not to burp a lot."
"Woah!" A full laugh finally broke through you as you slapped your thigh. "That was pretty smooth!"
"I'm sure you know I'm trying." He shrugged, holding back another snicker himself.
"Okay, then." You smiled at him and let out a sigh of amusement. "Me too. I'd love to."
"Huh? To what?"
"To let you know more about me. And to know you more as well. You can tell more of your story to me."
Not much to your surprise, Nebuya did not give immediate comeback. And yet, tints of pink re-emerged slowly on his cheeks and now also on the tip of his ears as, again, he tightened his lips and threw his gaze to anywhere else but you. Seems like those were his personal bashful quirks.
You on the other hand, had secretly got astonished, realizing that you actually felt somewhat delighted, to find that your words actually managed to affect him that much, this man whose name you just knew. This man you suddenly want to see more sides of.
Somehow during this brief conversation, you had felt a sense of charming sincerity, inadvertently delivered along with the words Nebuya said and the gestures he made. A warmth of honesty, or perhaps naivety, that was a contrast of his appearance and image your mind briefly hold, judging only by your first encounter. Even though you still had your cautious guard on, as common sense would, you sure knew you would be glad to be proven wrong. To see that this man, who had clearly showed an interest in you, was actually as much of a safe bet as your intuition discerned.
"Is that for real?" Nebuya sheepishly asked after a while.
"Yup. For real." You nodded to make your point clear, still with a lingering smile.
"Wow. This had never worked before."
"And I never went along to things like this before."
"Is that so?" He rubbed the back of his neck again. "So… Um... Are you free right now? And are you... you know... 'free'... as in..."
You understood what he meant. "Oh I'm totally free right now. I actually planned to mourn my performance here 'til dusk before you came along. As for the other thing, yes I'm free 'free', not currently taken."
While he fully expected you to catch his implication with your quick wit, he still went a shade redder to your answer regardless. "Then, do you... mind to move somewhere else after this?"
A big smile beamed on your face. "Sure. But before that," you raised an eyebrow at him and swept your sight swiftly over his shoulder, "I think we've got to check up on your friends first. One of them kind of pointed his phone this way just now and got smacked on the head."
Nebuya groaned, and you laughed yet again at his distressed face.