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“Where are you taking me?” you grumbled, your annoyance evident in your voice.
Nagumo whined, holding onto your wrist firmly, “Just follow me.”
You tried to tug your wrist away but his grip remained tight, “You don’t have to hold my wrist. I’m not a child,” you protested.
He clicked his tongue, “Nope, you run really fast. I’m too spent to chase you today.”
“I jog every morning,” you responded, “It helps.”
He smirked, “Yeah, yeah, and I lift. Do you want me to carry you around on my shoulders like a sack of rice?”
You paused, trying to repress a smile, “…No."
He lead you to a cozy boba place that had just opened near campus. It was modestly sized, not overly busy and decorated with soft lighting and small tables. The air was filled with the delightful scent of freshly brewed teas and other sweet treats.
As he stirred his drink with the straw, the pearls swam around the bottom of the tall plastic cup. Your gaze drifted from his drink to his eyes, silently studying him across the table.
“What’s on your mind?” he inquired, giving your forehead a quick but gentle flick.
You swirled your straw in your drink, then took a sip before replying, “Your eyes are like… tapioca pearls.”
His eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on his lips, "Uh... thanks?" he said, unsure of how to respond to the oddly endearing comparison.
“That wasn’t a compliment,” you deadpanned.
“What was that then?” he echoed back, now curious.
“An observation,” you replied, returning his gaze.
He rested his chin on his palm and smirked, “Speaking of observations, what do you think of me lately?”
You thought about it for a moment, your expression contemplative, “It seems you’ve changed your strategy.”
He raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips, “Strategy?”
Your mind traveled back to a conversation you had with your roommate recently, where Nagumo had come up in discussion…
“I’m speaking from experience and from what I know so far, alright?” Your roommate emphasized.
You nodded, silently acknowledging her words. She continued, “We had a thing back when I was a freshman, but it was just a silly situationship, so don’t worry about it.”
You tried to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray a hint of curiosity, “I’m not worried. Continue.”
Your roommate chuckled sheepishly, “Yeah, so, he doesn’t date date…”
You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, slightly confused, “I’m not sure I follow. Are you implying he’s more into casual relationships?”
She nodded, “Yeah, he goes around a lot and switches things up really quickly…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.
You interjected, “How long is ‘very quickly’?”
She thought for a moment before responding, “Uh… The longest I know is two months.”
Your expression turned slightly skeptical, prompting you to question, “No girlfriends? Or boyfriends, if he goes that way too?”
She shook her head, “Not that I know of…” she gasped, “Wait… Do you like him like that?”
You paused, eyes distant, before explaining, “I’m not sure what you mean, but this feeling is similar to that time when I saw a rare card that I really wanted to add to my collection.”
She nodded understandingly, her expression serious as she provided a warning, “Okay...? Be careful though. Don’t get too attached.”
You assured her, “I won’t.”
“Still, be wary,” she warned you, “He might be luring you in. He’s quite calculated with his push and pull.”
You rambled quietly, still lost in thought, “Push and pull? He’s all pull these days. Maybe he changed his strategy? I just need to beat him at his own game.”
“What...?” she asked, her expression puzzled.
“Nothing,” you replied quickly, eager to move on.
She let it go, resuming the conversation, “You still tutor him, right?”
“Yes, ‘till before midterms,” you confirmed.
“I’m sure you’re aware he doesn’t need it…?” she inquired.
You shook your head in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t they give you his info?”
“They did,” you confirmed, still unclear about where this was going.
“Did you not read it?”
You responded dismissively, “The brain deletes useless information… Can you just get to the point, please?”
She chuckled, finally disclosing, “He’s an Arts Major.”
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“You’re less annoying these days,” you commented.
Nagumo smiled, amused, “Ooh... am I now? Does that mean you enjoy my company?”
You retorted, “I said ‘less annoying,’ meaning, you still are…” You paused, then added, “but I do enjoy you a little.”
His expression brightened with a beaming smile.
You couldn’t help but notice the tattoos on his fingers, prompting you to ask, “Did it hurt a lot?”
He smirked, initially continuing his teasing by replying, “When I fell from the sky?”
You rolled your eyes, quickly clarifying, “The tattoos.”
He caught on to your interest (finally) and set aside his teasing for a moment to respond more seriously, “Hmm, there were different levels to it. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Which one hurt the most?” you inquired before taking a sip from your drink.
He thought for a moment before replying, “Hmm. Here,” he gestured to the side of his neck, “And the one on my rib.”
Your eyes widened slightly, the straw lingered between your lips, thinking: Oh. There’s more.
“The ones on your hands didn’t? I thought the more it got to the bone, the more it hurt,” you said.
“Yup, these ones too,” he confirmed, placing both of his hands flat on the table, “Looks like you did your research. You wanna get one too?”
You shook your head, firmly stating, “Not really.”
He smirked, sensing an opening for teasing, “What, you scared of the pain?”
“I mean, why would I want to put myself through that? Also, the aftercare seems like a hassle,” you explained.
He smirked and suggested, “How about something painless? Got a pen?”
You immediately voiced your skepticism, “I don’t trust you. You might draw something… inappropriate.”
He looked at you, feigning innocence, “Like what?”
“A penis.” You deadpanned.
He chuckled, protesting, “What do you take me for? Come onnnn…”
He leaned forward, trying to persuade you to allow him. Begrudgingly, you took out your pen pouch from your bag, which was stuffed with an assortment of pens, markers, and highlighters. He quickly slid it over to himself and unzipped it, ready to go over the contents.
With a smirk, he removed the cap of the fine-tip pen between his teeth. Looking at you, he teased, “Where’d you want your first tattoo placed, ma’am?”
You shrugged, responding, “What do you recommend?”
He smiled, taking your hand into his and intertwining your fingers. He pointed at your inner forearm and said confidently, “Right here.”
You smiled a bit at his actions and gave him permission, looking away to keep your composure, “Knock yourself out.”
The two of you shared a comfortable silence as he drew on your skin. Every shift of his hand on your flesh sent a flutter through your stomach, and you found yourself entranced by the way his hair cascaded over his face as his eyes sparkled with focused attention whilst working on his so-called painless tattooing service.
He abruptly spoke, his gaze still fixed on drawing on your skin, “Careful not to burn a hole in my face. Skincare is expensive.”
You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “What are you blabbering about?”
He smirked, “You like to stare, ‘no?”
“Humans are naturally drawn to beauty,” you murmured quietly.
A slight blush crept across his cheek, “Woah. Look at you with your pick up line,” he teased.
You shot back, “That was not a pick-up line but a fact.”
He sighed and shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear, “Alright… All done.”
You looked down at the drawing, perplexed, “What’s this supposed to be? A sunflower?”
“No...?”
He searched through your pen pouch again and retrieved your pastel highlighters. Carefully, he added touches of lavender to the petals and brightened the center with a touch of yellow, “It’s an aster flower.”
“Why this flower?” you inquired.
He paused for a moment, still smiling, before nodding towards your phone, “Look it up right now.”
You unlocked your phone and proceeded to search for the flower’s symbolism on your phone. As you read aloud the interpretations, you looked back at him with skepticism, “Wisdom? Faith and... Valor?”
He chuckled and reached for your phone, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, “Give me that,” he said with a smirk. He quickly typed in the search bar “aster japanese flower language” before handing it back to you.
You gazed at the drawing on your forearm after looking at your phone, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips, “You won’t forget me…?”
He answered quietly, his chin resting on his palm, “Well, one of us has to remember.”
“What do you m…?”
“Nevermind.” He interrupted, quickly dismissing your train of thought. He then jokingly suggested payment for his service, “You may pay for the tattoo now, ma’am.”
“Come closer.”
He leaned in with the table between you, his eyes closed and a goofy grin playing on his lips. In a teasing tone, he said, “Very bold of you to do this right here but alright.”
He had been expecting a kiss, since that’s all you both have been doing as of late. However, when your hands reached out and gently touched the top of his head, ruffling his hair instead, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and endearment.
A headpat?
As he opened his eyes and locked gazes with you, he witnessed a tender and rare display of affection from you. He felt as though the surroundings grew hushed, and the two of you were enveloped in a private bubble. He was so tempted to cover you from the outside world, claiming this intimate expression solely for himself. Instead, he remained still, quietly cherishing each second of your touch.
Despite the many intimate experiences he’s had with others, he couldn’t have predicted that a mere headpat could do wonders to him. Maybe because it was from you.
Just when he thought his heart could finally take a breather after you took your hand away, your smile widened in appreciation as you looked down at his drawing on your forearm, speaking softly voice laced with sweetness, “You did so good. It looks very pretty.”
Then it hit him, realizing his tutor sessions with you are soon coming to an end, he was suddenly struck with an idea and asked, “Do you wanna go see a movie with me after midterms?”
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EXT. ROOFTOP CIG SESH – POST DINNER
“Dude, why do you keep touching your head? You got lice or something?” Akao exclaimed.
Hearing this, Sakamoto immediately took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his hair back into a low bun.
Nagumo chuckled and replied, “You guys have not experienced loving headpats and it shows.”
Akao burst out laughing, “You've been banging girls left and right and now you're into headpats? What’s next, holding hands?”
In which Nagumo retorted, “Shut up. This one’s different.”
Akao was not convinced, continued her goading, “How is it different? My bet is two weeks, max,” she then turned to Sakamoto and urged, “Place your bet, hurry.”
Sakamoto shifted his gaze to Nagumo before turning around and resting his back against the metal railings, taking a long drag from his cigarette, “Is this about your tutor?”
Akao suddenly interjected, “What do you need a tutor for?”
Nagumo beamed and responded to Sakamoto, deliberately disregarding Akao's attempt to taunt him, “Yeah. Going strong.”
Amused, Sakamoto nodded, “Nice.”
“Why is no one answering me?!” Akao raised her voice in playful protest.
“There’s this girl from a different department that I've bumped into several times for the last two years, yet she never remembers me. So I pulled some strings to get closer to her. And joke’s on you, Akao, we've been hanging out for almost two months now,” Nagumo retorted with a smug smile.
Akao cackled and mocked, “Two months? You want an award for that?” She then asked a more suggestive question, “How far have you gone with her?”
Nagumo deflected, “It doesn't matter.”
Akao chuckled and pressed, “Clocked it, y’all ain't done it yet. Man, your game’s getting weak.”
Nagumo finally quipped, “You ask too many questions. Looks like someone hasn’t gotten laid lately.”
Akao released a huff and seized Nagumo in a headlock, proceeding to rub her knuckles on his head while playfully reprimanding him, “Is that how you talk to your big sister? After checking up on your brooding ass?! I even bought you groceries!”
Nagumo laughed, attempting to free himself from Akao's grip, and protested, “Stooooooop! You're erasing the headpats!” His voice strained, he added, “You’re not even older than me!”
Sakamoto observed the two bantering like children, a subtle smile tugged at the corners of his lips.