Work Text:
Gojo Satoru is many things. To those who don’t know him, he is the tall, handsome model with features like a summer sky: hair as white and fluffy as clouds, eyes as strikingly blue as light waves, and a smile as radiant as the midday sun.
To his students, he is the too-talented-to-get-fired goofy teacher.
And to his friends, he is the rich bachelor who never fails to come up with terrible ideas that land everyone but him in trouble.
Yet on this disgustingly hot summer afternoon, Satoru can only describe himself as an utterly bored, abandoned friend. There is nothing to do and - worst of all - no one to do it with. It’s the end of the month, which means Nanami is crunching numbers and calculating taxes at the office until the morning sun peaks over the skyline. Shoko and Utahime are on a girls' trip, which, in Satoru's humble opinion, could have easily been turned into a regular, inclusive trip he could have joined.
In his state of sheer boredom, Satoru feels generous enough to give Utahime a check-in call.
“Satoru,” Utahime greets. “Unless this is a life or death emergency, I don't want to hear your voice.”
“It is life or death,” Satoru confirms. “I am about to die of boredom.”
She groans in annoyance. Satoru chooses to ignore it, a pout forming on his soft, pink lips as he continues: “What are you guys doing?”
“We're going to a spa. Girls only!” Shoko shouts into the phone, sounding happily drunk.
Satoru’s pout intensifies. “I like spas.”
“Oh yeah?” Utahime teases. “When have you ever been to one? You can't even sit still long enough to get a massage, Satoru.”
“That happened once, and the masseuse kept tickling me!” Satoru says, holding one palm over his naked, touch-sensitive ribcage. It’s a million degrees outside, and he didn’t bother to put on a shirt when he decided to lie in the lounge chair on his private patio that overlooks the nicest part of the (dreadfully uneventful) city.
“Plus, a spa is to relax and destress. I've never seen you stressed in my life,” Utahime continues her lecture.
Satoru grins into the phone. “Well, if you put it that way, a spa sounds like a retreat for losers who stress themselves out because they take forever to get something simple done and who complain about their body aches yet refuse to fix their terrible posture.”
“I'm hanging up now,” Utahime announces, her voice harsher than before and the flow of her words quicker. A telltale sign that she is angry. Satoru’s grin widens.
“Byeee!”
The call ends, and Satoru is left with unbearable silence. It takes about three seconds before he feels that itchiness to do something again. But there is nothing to do.
He tries to phone Nanami, but the call goes straight to voicemail. This, of course, does not deter Satoru, and he joyfully leaves the following message: “Hi Nanamin, when you're done with your soul-sucking job, we should go on a boys' trip. Just you and me. No girls allowed.”
He’ll make sure to make the best trip ever, and to make Utahime turn green with jealousy.
What’s even so great about a girls' trip?
With his phone still in hand, Satoru decides not to judge until he is thoroughly educated on the subject. Some research is therefore necessary. He chooses the first women's magazine article he finds online as his trustworthy source.
10 Musts for Your Perfect Girls' Getaway
He scrolls past the blurb gushing about how great a girls' only retreat is; he's heard enough of that from Utahime.
#1 - Show your besties some love with a gift bag!
Below the first point is a list detailing the contents of the bag - a travel hairbrush, a scrunchy, hair clips, sunscreen, mints, and fun sunglasses.
Easy enough, Satoru thinks. He stands up, stretches his arms above his head, and yawns, then goes inside to put on a shirt and shoes.
The walk to the convenience store down the street is humid and gross. By the time he enters the air-conditioned store, his shirt sticks to his back and sweat beads on his forehead. The store is dead empty. On one hand, Satoru is glad not to have to squeeze past other sweaty shoppers, but on the other hand, it irks him to know people are somewhere else, doing better things. They're probably enjoying much more fun activities tonight than visiting their local, mundane convenience store alone.
In a matter of minutes, Satoru has gathered all the items listed. He's tempted to put on the red rimmed plastic sunglasses as soon as he pays for them, but his solo girls' trip hasn't started yet, and Satoru dutifully puts them in the floral printed tote bag he found.
On his way out of the store, he deliberately stops in front of the air conditioner to cool off and pulls out his phone to look up item number two on the list.
#2 Curate the perfect playlist for your trip.
Satoru confidently continues scrolling down to the next step. Every one of his playlists is perfect. All of them are pop hits that never fail to put him in a good mood. He puts one earbud in his ear, takes out the purple sunglasses from his tote, then presses play and struts back out into the empty, humid street.
#3 Time to hit the road! Are you going to a retreat in the mountains, staying up all night in the city, or relaxing at the beach?
Satoru thinks about this for a moment. He is already in the city, so he crosses that option off. He likes the beach, but as he continues walking through the thick, hot air, the cool mountain range becomes increasingly more appealing.
Instead of returning home, Satoru walks toward the train station and checks the departure board before hopping on the first train going east.
During the train ride, Satoru nods his head to the beat of the music and researches step number four:
#4 - Explore the location! Go thrift shopping, visit the local bookstore, rest at a small coffee shop, go for a cool swim, or enjoy the fresh air on a scenic trail.
He still hasn't decided where he wants to go. He ultimately picks a random number between one and twenty in his head and makes it his final stop. After the eighteenth stop (he picked the number because there are eighteen students enrolled in his grade nine class), the train is no longer zooming past skyscrapers and cement walls, but farmland and thick trees. He can see the peaks of the mountain range in the back of the scenery, and considers it close enough to his mountain adventure.
Satoru hops off at the stop, leaves the air-conditioned train station, and steps outside. Immediately, he’s hit by the unbearable heat again. Even through the soles of his shoes, he can feel the burning hot pavement. A village bus drives past him and stops at the train station. Satoru boards it without hesitation, relishing the empty seats and the gusts of cool air blasting through the tiny ceiling fans.
If he is honest with himself, he isn’t a small-town kind of guy. His travel destinations are usually chaotic tourist attractions in loud cities that burst with energy.
The moment Satoru exits the bus, he understands why some towns are described as ‘sleepy.’ For starters, it is too quiet. The buzzing city life Satoru is used to is a piercing, never-ending scream compared to it. Here, Satoru can literally hear the birds chirping in the trees. Secondly, the first five people he sees definitely fit the retirement-age demographic. Everything about them is so slow. He is stuck walking behind an elderly couple, blocking the entire sidewalk. Their pace doesn't match Satoru's upbeat playlist, and his rhythm gets all messed up.
He contemplates becoming a lawbreaker and walking down the deserted road to pass them, but just then, he spots a bakery and makes a beeline for it.
The bell chimes, announcing his entrance.
Instead of a welcoming 'hello, how may I help you?' from the employee, Satoru is instead greeted by a loud clirr of metal hitting the ground, followed by a man shouting, "Jesus fucking Christ, I do not deserve this today!"
This is enough for Satoru to pause his music, pop out his earbud, and cautiously approach the bakery counter.
No one is there. Satoru dares to step closer, his hips pressing against the counter as he leans over, stretching his neck like a hungry camel searching for food.
Behind the counter, he finds a man on all fours picking up dozens of crumbly pastries that stick to the ground.
“Hi there!” Satoru calls out.
The man jerks his face up, his hands shoot up in surprise at the sudden sound, and the pastries he has picked up land once more on the ground.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Satoru says. His cheap sunglasses obstruct his vision, so he takes them off, folds them, and shoves them in the tote bag. With his eyes freed, Satoru takes a good look at the man.
His brown eyes are the same color as the chocolate smears all over his apron. His long, shiny black hair is worn openly, prompting Satoru to wonder about the place's hygiene. He's never seen a baker with open hair, and Satoru has visited (perhaps too) many bakeries in his life.
“Sorry,” the man quickly rises to his feet. Standing, he's almost exactly at eye level with Satoru.
“Bad day?” Satoru asks as he continues to shamelessly check the man out. His white apron hugs his broad, muscular upper body. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up, revealing pale, toned arms.
The man huffs out a laugh, and the sound reminds Satoru of strawberry ice cream on a hot day. “Yeah, you could say that.”
There's a click in Satoru’s brain. All the different observations he just took in merge into a single thought: this man is perfect. He can, presumably, bake pastries; he's handsome, and his voice is the embodiment of letting a piece of chocolate slowly melt on your tongue. Satoru’s mind, which is usually running on a million thoughts, stutters into slow motion, and the only thought passing through is the need to learn more about this man. This stranger with whom Satoru would gladly spend a boring, awful-hot day doing nothing.
“Anyway, what can I get you? We're out of chocolate cream puffs.” He shoots an annoyed glance at the ground, covered in said chocolate cream puffs.
Satoru tries to calm his pounding heart by humming softly to himself as he studies the pastries behind the display glass. Not a single baked good has as much appeal to him as the man standing behind them.
“If you get a sandwich, it comes with a free coffee,” the man adds. Satoru can’t believe he’s not wearing an employee name tag. It's probably not needed in this tiny town. Everyone must know everyone.
“I don't drink coffee,” Satoru says. “Although I've been told my mere presence acts as a shot of espresso.” He smirks and leaves it at that, choosing not to add the rest of Utahime’s metaphor. According to Utahime, people enjoy drinking coffee or cappuccinos, but a shot of espresso, mixed with nothing else, you only drink that shit when you're desperate. It’s ridiculously expensive. It leaves an awful taste in your mouth and always gives you a headache.
“Espresso pairs well with a sweet treat,” the guy smiles, and Satoru wonders if the man’s lips taste as sweet as his voice. His lips do look very biteable.
“I'll take this, this, and this, then,” he points at each item. “Oh, and a chocolate milkshake too, please,” he adds, glancing at the menu on the wall behind the counter.
The man puts the pastries into a paper bag, then turns his back and starts making the milkshake. The blender in the corner of the room churns aggressively while Satoru revisits the article.
#5 - Learn something new! Take a cooking class, a dance class, or perhaps a surfing lesson!
“Are there any classes around here?” He asks the man when the blender is turned off, and a thick, chocolaty milkshake is put between Satoru and the beautiful man.
The man’s thin black eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Like a college class?”
“No, like a fun class. I'm only here for the day and want to try something new!”
“We don't have a lot to offer around here.”
Satoru would strongly disagree. He stares at the chocolate-covered apron that accentuates the man’s hard chest and muscular shoulders. He gets it now. Why all those romance movies always compel the city protagonist to start living in the middle of nowhere to live happily ever after with the hot farmer. Satoru would totally live in a bakery for this man.
“Unless you want to learn how to make chocolate cream puffs. Since it looks like I'll be making those again.”
Satoru feels like he just won at the slot machine. A local baking class, more time spent with the hot baker, and chocolate cream puffs as a reward.
“In that case, I’d argue this town offers exactly what I want.”
“All right then,” he says, his shy smile making Satoru's heart flip and dance to the beat of his favorite pop song. “I'll grab you an apron. I need to wash up quickly and figure out what to do with my hair. My elastic broke earlier, just before I dropped everything on the floor.”
“Oh!” Satoru exclaims. At this point, he's convinced that this is destiny. He was always meant to be in this bakery with this man. He rummages through the tote bag and pulls out the pink scrunchy and the mini-sized hairbrush. “You can use these.”
“Are you sure your girlfriend won't mind if I use her stuff?”
“Huh? No, I just bought this stuff for myself.”
The man opens and closes his mouth. Satoru realizes that his white hair is too short to bother to brush and definitely not long enough to style with a scrunchy.
“They're items I needed for my solo trip,” he explains. “No girlfriend or boyfriend,” he adds, just as a little fun fact about himself.
“Are you doing a scavenger hunt?”
“More like a to-do list. Apparently, every good trip needs a goodies bag.” Satoru shrugs.
The man accepts the scrunchy and brush and doesn't ask any further questions. He nods toward the paper bag. “Don't forget about your goodies bag. I'll be right back.”
The bakery is small, and only a few high tables are available to sit at. Satoru plops down in a wooden chair that creaks slightly. He starts munching happily on his food, relishing the taste while enjoying the cozy atmosphere. The milkshake is just cold enough to be refreshing, without giving him a brain freeze. Even though he has not yet started the task, he considers item number five to be as good as accomplished. After savoring another bite, Satoru takes his phone out and scrolls down to the next item:
#6 - All that learning demands a break! It's time to talk, relax, rewind, and sip on some wine.
Satoru wishes this one were more specific. Relax where? Talk about what?
Just as the baker returns, a new customer enters the store. Satoru observes from his seat how the man smiles at the old lady as she orders a chocolate croissant. His hair is now up in a bun, and his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw are accentuated.
“Have a good day!” the guy wishes the customer after the transaction is complete.
“You as well, dear.”
Dear, why can't people just call each other by their name? Satoru feels as if he's eavesdropped for nothing.
When she leaves, Satoru throws out his empty bag and returns to the counter, where he's handed a white apron.
“Have you ever baked before?” the man asks.
“Nope.”
“Do you cook?”
“Not unless I want to start a fire.”
Again, his ridiculously perfect eyebrows knit together, and he looks absolutely adorable.
“But I do have excellent reflexes, so if you drop the pastries again, I can catch them before they hit the ground,” Satoru grins.
The look of confusion turns to irritation.
“Thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.
Satoru decides that now is a good time to take initiative and introduce himself. “I'm Satoru. What's your name?”
“Suguru.”
“What do you do to relax and rewind, Suguru?” Satoru asks as he follows Suguru behind the counter and into the back room.
Hearing this question, Suguru almost trips over his own feet. He turns around and studies Satoru, confusion written all over his face. Satoru returns his gaze openly, impatiently waiting to hear Suguru's reply. Suguru blushes and looks down at his apron.
“Usually I'd say baking relaxes me, but that clearly has not been the case today.”
“What's your alternative plan?”
“Drinking coffee with a good book.”
Satoru supposes he can stop at the bookstore next, buy a random book, and read it on a park bench in the local park or something. Although he doubts sitting outside for a long period feels pleasant in this forsaken heat.
“Where do you do that?” Satoru asks.
“Read my book?”
Satoru nods. Suguru turns his back on him and brings out a sheet of puff pastries from the biggest fridge Satoru has ever seen.
“At home, usually.”
This also doesn't help Satoru.
Suguru looks at him with a suppressed smile. Satoru’s fingers immediately swipe over the corner of his lips.
“Do I have chocolate on my face?”
Suguru laughs. “Nah, you're good.”
“Then why'd you look at me like that?”
Suguru's laugh intensifies. “You're doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
“The pouting.”
And Satoru can't help it. He intensifies his pout. He is offended at being laughed at, but he's also in heaven, being surrounded by food and listening to the hot baker’s laughter. To Satoru, it sounds like wedding bells, which is an odd thing for Satoru to think when he has no intention of ever getting married.
“It's not nice to laugh at someone,” Satoru points out, mostly to steer his thoughts in a different direction.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to. You just look really-” he stops himself and tucks a strand of black hair behind his pierced ear. “What do you do to relax, Satoru?”
“I usually watch a movie, but I'm trying to do new things today.”
Suguru brings out a silver bowl and a pack of dark chocolate. “Maybe baking will become your new go-to.”
It's not that Satoru is against the idea of baking. It's just that when he's craving sweets, he doesn't want to wait and work for them. He doesn't want to spend time looking for recipes. He's tried it once, and the cooling time had horrified him. Who in the world has the patience to let a yummy treat sit overnight in the fridge?
Most of Satoru’s free baking class is spent watching Suguru do all of the work and talking his ear off.
“How did I do?” Satoru asks when the work is done, and a fresh chocolate cream puff is presented on a plate in front of him.
“You did a great job cleaning the chocolate bowl with your tongue.”
Satoru grins and bites his tongue, because said tongue can clean out a lot more.
“So what's next?” He asks.
“Huh? There's nothing left to bake. Unless I end up dropping more shit today, which I honestly might.”
After devouring his chocolate cream puff, Satoru is out of excuses to linger and reluctantly leaves the bakery to continue his adventure.
He doesn't feel like reading a book and being quiet. It doesn't sound relaxing at all to be stuck with his own thoughts.
Satoru wanders through the streets when his eyes catch a poster.
Movie under the Stars
Saturday at 9pm
Before Satoru can chicken out and change his mind, he's back at the bakery.
Suguru looks at him, surprised. “Did you forget something?”
“What time do you close? Are you free at nine o'clock tonight?”
He watches the perfectly arched black eyebrows knit together in confusion. In the short time he's been with Suguru, Satoru has seen the look so often that he's starting to consider the expression very familiar.
“Why, what's happening?” Suguru asks.
“A movie under the Stars, Suguru! I need you to go with me.”
The knitted eyebrows don't disappear, but now Suguru's pale cheeks are turning a slight pink, and he's sucking in his bottom lip.
“Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”
“Nope! That would go against the rules of a girls' trip,” Satoru tells him flatly. A set of deliciously looking pastries on the display shelf catches his attention, and he misses the way Suguru's face falls.
“I need you as my guide and show me where to go, and also because it's more fun to watch a movie with someone else,” Satoru explains.
“I’ll have to close the store a bit early to get the clean up done, but I think I can make it for nine.”
“Perfect! I'll meet you here with snacks and blankets.”
When the sun finally sets and the street lights turn on, Satoru is amazed by how dark it actually gets. The store doors are locked, and their windows are pitch-black. There are no skyscrapers with tiny windows to light up the night. When Satoru cranes his head to the sky, he can actually see stars.
Truthfully, he is a tiny bit scared as he makes his way through the empty, dark street over to the bakery.
Suguru has tossed the apron and redone his hair. He greets Satoru in a baggy, black t-shirt, his hair tied in a neat half-bun, and a shy smile tucking on his perfect lips.
The walk to the “green,” as Suguru calls it, takes less than five minutes.
Satoru whistles, impressed. “So this is where the rest of the town was hiding.”
He looks around, amazed by the dozens of blankets sprawled on the ground. He’s surprised by the number of kids still up, running around, and munching on their snacks.
“What movie are they showing?” Suguru asks.
“No clue,” Satoru says. He spreads the blanket on the ground, puts his tote down, and sits down criss-crossed. Suguru sits next to him, his legs comfortably stretched out.
“Here, this holds the equivalent of three hot chocolates," Satoru informs him, and pours into the cap of the massive thermos he purchased along with the many snacks.
Suguru accepts it. The steam rises into the night. It’s still warm out, but not uncomfortable anymore.
“Do you always have movie night showings?” Satoru asks.
“I think there’s one every week? I’ve never been to one.”
“Why not?”
Suguru shrugs. “It’s not really my thing. So did you finish the rest of your checklist?”
“Nah, I couldn’t complete the next one.”
“Why, what’s left?”
Satoru pulls out his phone and reads out loud:
“#7 - Appreciation Appies! It’s time to celebrate the people you’re on this trip with.”
“Well, I really appreciate your spontaneity,” Suguru says.
Satoru grins. “It’s one of the many things I’m known for. I really appreciate your baking skills.”
“I’ve picked up on that, believe it or not,” Suguru says, but his cheeks turn pinkish again, and he’s barely suppressing a smile. “So what about number eight?”
Satoru scrolls past the long paragraph detailing #7 and reads the caption of the next one: “#8 - Have a night out, after all, what’s a girl’s trip without a girl’s night out? I think this counts as a girl’s night out.”
“I think so. Whenever I hang out with my sisters, all we do is watch Disney movies.”
“What are your sisters like?” Satoru asks, eager to learn more about Suguru.
“A lot like you, actually,” Suguru teases. “Full of energy and constantly craving sweets. It’s what originally got me into baking.”
Satoru likes hearing more about Suguru’s family and keeps asking questions until the projector lights up, people fall quiet, and the movie begins.
He makes himself comfortable on the blanket and wonders what would happen if he were to rest his head on Suguru's shoulder. Would he allow it? The fantasy of what it would feel like to kiss Suguru invades Satoru’s mind and takes over, tormenting him and making him forget his surroundings. His world has been cut down, only leaving him and Suguru. Sure, they’ve only just met, but Satoru’s heart has never beaten so quickly with the need and anticipation of getting to know someone else. Satoru’s lips have never dreamed of tasting another man’s lips this badly in his life. Every glance at Suguru pulls at him, the desire growing stronger with each frantic heartbeat.
His eyes flicker between Suguru’s eyes and lips, searching for any sign, any invitation that a kiss would be welcome. Suguru catches his gaze and sends Satoru a soft smile. Is that a ‘yes’? Satoru might drive himself insane before he can figure it out.
He forces himself to behave, although he can't help it when his spread-out hand keeps sliding closer and closer to Suguru's. His body feels jittery at the possibility of touching - no, physically connecting with- Suguru.
He's thoroughly disappointed in his hand when it chickens out and stops moving just an inch away from Suguru's fingers.
The movie ends much too soon, and Satoru realizes that he cannot recite a single scene.
People get up and clear the area, but Satoru won't move. If he stands up now, his night will be over. It's too late in the evening to come up with any more excuses to keep Suguru from leaving. Eventually, Suguru will have to go home, and Satoru will have to head back to the train station.
He watches, disappointed, as Suguru stands up. Satoru's legs feel stiff as he gets up as well. Suguru helps him fold the blanket and stuff it into the tote bag.
“Did you manage to get everything done on your list?” Suguru asks.
“No, I still have two left.” He’s disappointed in his failure but he couldn't have completed number eight without Suguru's help, and now it is too late to finish the last two items.
Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and returns to the article. “Number nine,” he reads out loud. “Take lots of pictures to remember the moment.”
“You haven't taken a single picture yet?” Suguru asks incredulously.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to! I read the article step by step. I didn’t want to spoil it.”
Suguru shakes his head. He pulls out his phone and points it at Satoru. “Say cupcake.”
“Cupcake!”
Suguru takes the picture, then stares at it and grins. “What's your number? I'll send you the picture.”
Satoru tells him. A moment later, he finds himself grinning more at the unsaved number than at his picture. He's got Suguru’s contact information. He finally glances at the picture and finds himself smiling as he studies picture-Satoru’s wide smile. He can't wait to send the picture to Utahime and brag about his day to her.
“What about number ten?” Suguru asks.
Satoru closes out of the picture and returns to the article. “Enjoy the moment! Do what your heart desires.”
“And what's that?” Suguru asks.
Satoru stares at Suguru’s lips, at the beautiful smile that sends a flutter through his chest.
“It’s not something I can do on my own.”
“Why not?”
Satoru feels his face grow hot. He looks away.
Then he sees Suguru take a step toward him and slowly lean over. The scent of vanilla and a hint of chocolate from the bakery wafts between them, mixing with the evening air. When their lips finally meet, Satoru is swept away by the softness of Suguru’s lips. The taste of Suguru’s lips rivals even the best of pastries. And when they finally break apart, Satoru is left hungry for more.
“How'd you know that's what I wanted?” he asks, not caring that the desire he feels is reflected blatantly in his voice.
Suguru chuckles. “I had a hunch when you kept glancing at my mouth.”
“I am good at sending signals.”
“The best.”
Satoru grins, pleased with himself, and then pointedly stares at Suguru’s mouth once more. He's rewarded with another laugh, and then his entire body melts into the kiss that follows.
“You know, Utahime is going to freak out when she finds out I got a boyfriend before she did,” Satoru tells Suguru as they walk down the quiet road.
Suguru looks at him with that confused, furrowed eyebrows expression. “Boyfriend?”
“You look great, you bake fantastically, and your kisses are incredible. You've passed all of my criteria."
“And what do I get out of the deal?” Suguru teases.
“I'm obviously good-looking, too. Plus, I'm super rich and-”
“Oh, say no more.”
Satoru pouts. “Don't tell me you're a gold digger.”
“Says the pastry digger.”
“I guess I’ll be spending all my money on your bakery regardless.”
That earns him a laugh and Satoru's heart flutters in delight.
Satoru is still grinning widely on the train ride back home. Suguru’s number is officially saved with a name and address. Suguru had dropped him off at the train station with a promise they would see each other again soon.
Satoru’s phone buzzes, and disappointment washes over him when the new message isn't from Suguru, but then he realizes it's a reply from Utahime, and that makes Satoru almost just as happy. As soon as he sat down on the train, he sent her a five-minute voice message recapping his day, of which one minute was fully dedicated to how wonderful Suguru is.
The point of a girls' trip is not to hook up with guys, Satoru. Utahime’s message reads.
Satoru replies within seconds: That wasn't mentioned anywhere in the magazine.
In fact, the magazine had set him up to do this whole thing.
Satoru puts his music on and closes his eyes. It's not surprising to find out that Utahime did this whole girls' trip thing completely wrong. No wonder she’s still single.
Satoru, of course, perfected the trip. So much so that he plans to do it again tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.
His phone buzzes again with a new message. Satoru’s heart pounds loudly as he reads over the sender’s name, a big smile forming instantly on his face.
Suguru: Chocolate chip or M&M cookies?
Satoru: Both!
Suguru: You’re not very helpful. I need to figure out what to make for tomorrow.
Satoru's cheeks hurt from grinning so widely as he types his reply: Make both. I’ll eat whatever isn’t selling.
For a while, there’s no reply, leaving Satoru with no choice but to stare at his phone and will it to receive a message. After three minutes, his mindwork is rewarded with a ring.
“Hey,” Suguru says. It’s amazing how much Satoru has missed hearing his voice when it’s only been an hour since he and Suguru had said their goodbyes.
“Hey,” Satoru says softly.
“Are you actually planning on coming again tomorrow?”
“Yup!”
“Satoru, that’s a three-hour train ride. You don’t need to come just to see me.”
“I want to see you. And there really isn’t anything else to do.”
The city is, after all, incredibly boring compared to the things he can do in Suguru’s bakery.