Chapter Text
"I love you," Satoru Gojo whispered as he pulled you close to his chest. You could hear his breath rising and falling rhythmically.
"Excuse me?" You pulled away, peering into his magnificent eyes. No matter how many times you looked at them, you could never get used to the storm within them. They shone like a gemstone even in the dark when you both lay side by side. Surprisingly, his smile was more intoxicating. That same glee spread across his face like the season of spring whenever he caught you admiring his eyes.
"That's not the response I was hoping for," he laughed, letting a little disappointment be known.
"I'm sorry, this is all very sudden," you cleared your throat as specks of red coated your cheeks.
"Not so sudden. We have known each other for eight months," he sighed, pulling you close to him. "Even if you don't feel the same, I had to tell you."
/
You didn't exactly love him, yet. But you liked him enough to get excited at the prospect of meeting him and feel warm at the sight of him. His voice was a melody, better than a lullaby that one always revisits happily.
You had met an extraordinary man under ordinary circumstances. A walk in the park while your dog decided to pee against his leg, mistaking this tall man for a tree. You didn't blame him, and neither did Satoru. He merely looked at the dog and walked away. At first sight, he was handsome—the kind of men they cast in movies, and those movies become blockbusters only because of physical appeal. But you could sense an air of unhappiness around him.
Naturally, you took your very naughty dog away from the man in strange clothes, wearing sunglasses even in the dark. After a few weeks, you had forgotten all about him, yet he visited your dreams a couple of times. But his beautiful features were beginning to fade in your memory as you went on with your life. You were a chef at a popular restaurant in the heart of the city. Needless to say, you despised food made outside the home, but what you disliked more was the food you cooked—occupational hazards.
So, sometimes you took a walk in the big park surrounded by tiny cafés and sushi shops. If the weather and your schedule permitted it, you would take yourself out. Since your work demanded your presence more than anything, you barely had time for a social life. Yes, you saw your friends here and there, but meeting them more than once a week became a challenge easily.
But somehow, this gentleman had crossed your path twice in a month, in the same park. He appeared wealthy and reserved, wearing sunglasses or a strange mask around his eyes. His demeanor was unfazed, like he didn't connect to his surroundings, and life was but an infinite path he had to cross by himself. You wondered what a handsome and well-off man like him could have to be sad about. But you couldn't ask him, for he never spared you a glance.
Caught up in his own thoughts, he left as he came, leaving you to speculate about his ailments. Soon, work picked up, and you couldn't find the time to walk your dog anymore. The park became a distant dream as blankets of snow began resting on every surface you could find. It was cold enough to freeze water as soon as it left the tap. Days were becoming shorter, darkness enveloping the sky like a mother putting her child to sleep.
One of those evenings, when you were worked to the bone, you decided to visit the Christmas market. A cup of hot cocoa and a crêpe was suitable for dinner. Or else you would find yourself boiling milk and dipping bread in it. With great effort, you pulled yourself from your bed, wrapped a woollen coat around your shivering body, and headed outside. Despite the terrible cold, people were smiling, their spirits high as festivities burst open like a flower’s mouth, spreading its fragrance everywhere.
The Christmas market was a twenty-minute walk from your house. You could use some fresh air and exercise since the work week had demanded you churn your talents for ten hours a day. Your feet were sore, heels hurting as you walked, but your joints were rejoicing. The lights sparkled like stars had come down this season to decorate the town. You smiled to yourself, finally reaching your destination.
As you participated in the exuberant marketplace, you decided to go for hot wine instead, with a strawberry crêpe.
"It would give me the strength to walk back home," you reasoned, gulping down two glasses in succession. The market felt even brighter as the alcohol mingled with your blood, making the prickly chill bearable. You walked around, picking some flowers, fuzzy socks, and a snowman magnet as you nibbled on your crêpe.
Soon, lethargy coursed through your muscles, forcing you to find a seat.
"I cannot walk home," you groaned, looking up at the open sky. There wasn't a single star visible to ignite any wonder in you. "City lights."
After half an hour of watching people stumble and laugh, buying Christmas treats and exchanging kisses, you decided to head home. Soon it would be midnight, and you had to open the restaurant tomorrow at 10 a.m.
As you walked towards the exit, waiting for a cab, the same gentleman passed you by. This time, you noticed that he carried a bag of confectioneries from the marketplace. The candy canes and chocolate bars were nearly spilling out.
"He must be used to being looked at for him to treat my inspection as something as natural as the snow," you thought to yourself.
As he brushed past you, he dropped one of the chocolate bars. But without turning to pick it up, he left. He must have heard it fall, for he didn't wear anything in his ears to keep out the outside noise. Either he didn't care for a fallen chocolate bar, or his thoughts were louder than his surroundings.
You picked it up, turning over the bar to see the price. 7,000 yen! You scoffed at the unfathomable price of a mere sweet treat. Without wanting to chase after him at this hour, you decided to shove it in your pocket.
"It could make for a good Christmas gift," you decided, hailing a cab. "Besides, given his flooded bag, he wouldn't notice a missing piece."
Finally, a taxi stopped and asked for your home address. Before you could answer, a man's voice came from behind you.
"Excuse me," he sounded impatient but maintained politeness. "Have you seen my chocolate bar? I believe it fell somewhere here."
You turned to face the most striking man towering over you. You could see the horror on your face reflected in his sunglasses.
"No, no, I haven't," you pressed your lips together. If you told him that you took it, he would consider it thievery. Well, it was, in a sense, exactly that.
"Are you sure? I think I dropped it here," he pointed to the ground covered in dirty snow.
"Yes, I'm sure. Now, if you'll excuse me," you shrugged, opening the door of your cab.
"I think you know," he blocked the doorway, closing it with his fist. Although you could sense the discomfort in his body, he was remarkably good at maintaining his composure.
"Where are your manners? Do you think it's right to disturb a young woman at night in this way?" You spoke loudly, hoping the taxi driver would interpose.
Instead, he shook his head and drove away. What a pathetic place the city had become, you glowered.
"Then what's that in your pocket?" He was now beginning to break into a smile.
"My phone," you protested.
"Then what's that in your hand?" You noticed the Uber app open on your phone as you held it tightly.
"Well, I have two phones. What is it to you?" You stammered, lifting your chin arrogantly.
"Seriously, lady? Do you have to go this far for a chocolate bar?" The man clicked his tongue, his spirits slowly lifting.
"You look well-off to be stealing chocolate from the street. Are you drunk?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Perhaps," you admitted, taking out the chocolate bar and handing it to him.
"Look, forgive me. I didn't mean to steal anything. When it fell, I wished to call you, but I wanted to get home. You had already gone a long way," you found a dozen excuses to your rescue.
"Very well," he nodded. "You can have it. Merry Christmas."
He offered it to you, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Take it, please. I just wanted to make sure that you had found it. But I must admit that my approach was flawed. Forgive me," he said sincerely.
"Here, let me call you a cab," he extended his long arms and stopped a taxi.
"What's your name?" you asked, getting into the cab.
"Satoru Gojo," he smiled.